To Catch A Spider
by romanovaquill
Summary: A series of encounters with Peter Parker and Willa Brookes. Peter x OC.
1. Encounters

**i. Encounters.**

_If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea_  
_ I'll sail the world to find you_  
_ If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see_  
_ I'll be the light to guide you_

**_Count on Me by Bruno Mars. _**

* * *

He hadn't taken a photograph of another human being in a year and a half.

He'd taken so many of her that it never felt right, not since she had passed. The two-year anniversary of her death is looming like a shadow against his shoulders, heavy and burning.

His fault.

His guilt is hard to bear at times, an ache to be forgiven, to be forgiven by his lost girl, his path and choice; to be forgiven by her father, for breaking a promise he didn't keep.

Oh, how he wishes he'd stayed away from Gwen Stacy; to have stayed away and kept the darkness away from her.

He'd tried so hard, and yet had failed; inexperienced in keeping secrets hidden away and his guard up and closed. Now the walls he has built are never coming down. Secrets, they are always best untold.

Here he sits on top of an apartment building rooftop, next to his new best friend, who is so different to his lost Gwen. She is all dark eyes and full lips, with sketchbooks instead of textbooks and dyed purple hair instead of blonde, golden strands.

"I'm gonna be happier. I'm gonna let it all go," she says, picking up a picture she had sketched of her own lost mother and father. She rips it apart repeatedly until it is confetti like bits and pieces, and as a gust of wind picks up, she throws them to the sky.

He watches them fly across the city, following each other up and he tilts his head to look at her.

Her eyes are no longer trailing the confetti pieces, but are tracing the city below them, smiling lightly, wind picking up her violet hair like it did the paper.

His hands rest against his camera and for what seemed like the first time in forever, the lens' click together, capturing her happiness in a photograph.

Willa hears the click and turns her head, strands of her hair catching against her eyelashes until she takes her hand up towards her face and brushes them away.

"What are you doing?" she hums, a grin forming through her lips, dimples popping and eyes crinkling.

Peter snaps another photograph.

"I'm taking pictures. What does it look like?" he replies smartly, grinning back.

"You never take photos of me. Ever."

"Yeah well, inspiration struck a chord," he answers. "I mean, you're always drawing me. Can't a guy return the favour?"

Willa hums again, something she often does Peter notices, and faces the city once again. With her denim clad legs swung over the edge, hands bracing the side, Peter wonders in surprise how she never seems to be fazed by the heights.

"No bad guys to chase today, Parker?"

"They're a lot calmer on Monday's. Trying to get rid of me?" he jokes.

"Of course not. How would I get down?"

Willa had found out by mistake. It was an error, a big one by any accounts, but Peter hadn't been her primary source of information. Of course he hadn't told her.

Especially not since Gwen.

However one thing is for certain, and that is that Willa is not to be involved in anything related to Spiderman and that was that. No exceptions.

* * *

_"Hey! Spider-Man! Watch where you're swinging next time, okay?"_

_Peter heard a voice from below him and turned his head, looking down at the concrete. A girl, bright purple hair practically glowing against the light of the lamp-post and peach skin, clear and soft. He could see her brown eyes from where he swung. He perched on top of a balcony railing and stared down._

_"Whoops. My bad! Sorry about that. I was a tad busy you know, saving the city."_

_She stared back up at the man dressed in red and blue and grinned._

_"Well, you better get back to that then," she said, before exclaiming, "WAIT! There's a pretty little tabby stuck up a tree a few blocks from here... People are counting on you, spidey, so you better get saving it."_

_Peter laughed and the girl's grin got wider._

_"What's your name, smart ass?"_

_She raised her eyebrows. "Willa Brookes. Smart ass is my second name."_

_"Well, Willa Smart-ass Brookes, I apologise sincerely for nearly crashing into you and I'll try not do it again. Forgiven?"_

_"Hmm. It's not every day you get an apology from a superhero. So I guess so."_

_"I'll consider myself a lucky guy," Peter answered sarcastically. "You have a good night now. And be careful walking these streets at night- it's not safe."_

_Willa laughed. "Not safe? But...- I thought you said you've been saving the city?"_

_The girl grinned again and mock saluted, turning and walking in the other direction._

_Peter was smiling behind his mask. It had been a long time since someone had made him laugh like that. It was nice._

_Still, nothing lasts forever, he thought. And with that, he shot out another web and began flying through the night once more._

* * *

"How's Max?" Peter asks, putting a piece of gum in his mouth. He offers Willa one, in which she declines with a 'no thanks'.

"Ugh, the usual. He thinks being an orphan gives him a pass at being an asshole. It doesn't. I mean, they were my parents too and I don't act like that. It's been two years and he's still acting like this. I don't know how much I can take."

"You sure it's not just his raging hormones too?"

"That can't help."

"Listen, he's sixteen. He's just trying to figure everything out."

"Okay now you're making me the bad guy."

"I'm not! I'm just saying he's a teenager. Of course he doesn't respect you, you're his big sister."

"Hmm. That makes me feel so great, thanks Parker," she says. "I miss them too. I don't think he even realises that."

Max Brookes is Willa's younger brother. He is a raging party animal, occasional pot smoker and resents everyone and everything apart from his social circle and girlfriend, Amanda.

"He's selfish yes. He hates me yes. He's going to turn into an alcoholic and knock up his girlfriend, yes."

"Now you're just being dramatic," Peter laughs.

Willa knocks her elbow lightly into his arm. "Laugh all you want, it doesn't make it any less true."

"He doesn't hate you. You're his cool older sister, why would he hate you?"

"I'm a twenty-one year old college drop out who just about survives on a job at the local coffee shop. How is that cool?"

"You're cool. Trust me. Tell him you're best friends with Spider-Man. Think of that reaction."

"He'd laugh in my face and call me a liar."

Peter chuckles at that, knowing that that is the _exact _reaction Max would have. "At least he's doing okay at your grandma's place."

Willa sighs and pulls on the loops of her jeans. "He's only there because I couldn't afford the rent on the apartment. I'm a failure. Grandma offered me her spare room but I couldn't do that to her. She is just about managing Max."

* * *

_"Max! Seriously, answer your phone. I'm roaming the streets right now worried sick. Please just let me know you're okay. Please." _

_Willa felt the tension in her arms and the lurching feeling in her stomach. She knew that Max would freak if he found out the lengths she was going to look for him, arguing that he just wanted to party, but she couldn't help it; she was protective and she knew it. _

_That's when she saw him. Leaping from building to building and finally landing onto his feet. The street was dark and pretty deserted, considering the time._

_"Hey! Wait, Spider-Man!"_

_Peter turned around when he heard the voice shout for him. It bounced off the pavement of the empty street, echoing in his ears. That's when he saw a familiar face._

_"Well, well, well. We meet again. Willa, right?"_

_Willa had to admit, she was pretty impressed he remembered her name. The night they first met had been a month earlier, and she hardly thought she'd made a big enough impression to work her way into his long-term memory._

_When she next spoke, she sounded breathless like she had chased him down._

_"So we do- Listen, I need your help," she said, coughing into her hand._

_"You need my help?" he questioned._

_"Yeah. My brother- he's fifteen- he's not answering my calls and I don't know where he is. He went to some party and now I- I'm just freaking out." Willa seemed antsy and on edge, Peter noticed. She was clenching and unclenching her jaw and she was staring at him fiercely, waiting for him to turn her away. To tell her that he had more important things to do, criminals to catch, a city to save._

_"What does he look like?"_

_This caught her off guard for a second, but she unlocked her phone and got up a picture of him anyway, turning the screen to face the vigilante._

_"Okay... Any idea where he could have gone?"_

_"I don't know. Soho, maybe? He has a few older friends who live there," Willa answered, locking her phone again. Peter noticed 'older friends' had been said with a hint of disdain._

_"You got a car or something?"_

_Willa grinned, out of nowhere. "Why? Need a lift?"_

_Peter just shook his head, chuckling. "So you can look for him too."_

_"No, I don't. I've just been walking around places he could be. He does this a lot, but usually he will always call me back."_

_It dawned on Peter that she had been wandering around the city, on her own. Based upon his own experiences, no matter who you are, it's not a good idea. His Uncle Ben's face appeared in his mind and he clenched his own jaw. "It's one in the morning... Do you have any fear?"_

_"I need to find him." The look of determination sparked curiousity in Peter. _

_Peter sighed regardless. Determination like that, no matter how admirable, could be dangerous. "Go home. Please. I'll look for him, alright?"_

_"No way. I'm still looking for him."_

_"Listen, you asked for my help. I'm giving it. Just give me your address and when I find him, I'll bring him home."_

_Willa paused. _

_"Thank you."_

_Peter nodded, stepping closer to her. "You're welcome. Address?"_

_She gave her address to him straight away, and asked if he needed her to write it down, to which he declined. _

_"I have a good memory. Don't worry." Willa shook her head lightly, a ghost of a smile on her face. She knew his memory was good; he remembered the very forgettable, very insignificant Willa and he recalled her name with ease. _

_"If he gives you a hard time-"_

_"Does he know who I am?" Peter interrupted. _

_Willa gave him a incredulous look. "Of course he does. Doesn't everyone?"_

_"I don't think there will be any problems then, do you?"_

_"I guess so."_

_Peter found Max after all. Half an hour later, he was walking the streets with a fifteen year old rebel with a cause. He was shorter than Peter, blonde and looked nothing like his sister._

_"I think this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me," Max mumbled, scuffing his feet against the sidewalk. _

_"Really? You were at a party in an abandoned cellar, drinking cheap beer from tin cans, whilst your high as a kite friend was barking like a dog. And you think being escorted home by a stranger in the middle of the night is weird?" Peter's attempt at humour went unnoticed by the teenager. _

_Max just scoffed. "Yeah. I'm not a child."_

_"I know."_

_"How do you know my sister?"_

_Peter was Peter again. He'd gotten changed back into his clothes, and had looked for Max without his mask. Much easier to explain._

_"I don't. Not really."_

_"Why are you helping her then?"_

_"Because she asked for help."_

_"She was being dramatic. As usual. I was fine."_

_"She was worried about you."_

_"Well she should worry less. It's irritating."_

_"Where's your mom and dad?"_

_"Dead."_

_"Mine too."_

_Max paused, staying silent._

_"Bet you didn't think I was gonna say that, did ya?"_

_"Gotta admit, no I didn't."_

_They arrived at Willa's apartment and Peter walked up to the elevators with Max._

_"You think you can manage without me now?"_

_"I would've anyway."_

_Peter smiled. "Of course you could. It was nice meeting you, Max."_

_He turned to walk away when he heard Max shout;_

_"What did you say your name was again?"_

_Peter turned, still walking and grinned._

_"I didn't," and with that he left through the revolving set of doors._

_"Wait... What do you mean, a guy found you and brought you back?"_

_"I don't know, you were the one who sent him."_

_"No I sent-"_

_"You sent who?"_

_"Never mind," Willa said. "What did the guy look like?"_

_"I thought you knew him!"_

_"Just answer the question Max!"_

_"Okay okay, jeeze. He was kinda tall, brown hair, brown eyes, glasses. He was wearing a back pack. I don't know Willa, I wasn't really paying any attention. He never said his name though. What is it? Who was he?"_

_Willa sighed and rubbed her forehead._

_"Yeah that's the thing. I don't know either."_

* * *

Peter and Willa walk along the street, towards Willa's grandmothers house.

"You sure you don't want to go to Aunt May's? She won't mind at all," Peter says, nudging Willa.

"No it's fine. I need to check on Max and Grandma, then I'll just go home. We don't all have such epic extra curricular activities," Willa answers, winking at him.

"Epic, huh? Well, I do try."

They stop at the house and Peter turns to the shorter girl.

"I know it's hard, but- you know the saying kill 'em with kindness? Well, maybe that will work in your favour, you know what I mean?"

Willa sighs. "I know. I'll try. It's the best I can do."

"Well that's all anyone can ask."

* * *

_Peter had been to her grave that morning. It was a usual tradition that he visited at least once every week, and replaced the flowers there when her mother hadn't._

_He was supposed to meet his aunt at the hospital but she'd called and said that she'd be an extra hour due to low staff and told him to go buy himself some coffee and wait. So he did as he was told, went to the nearest coffee shop he saw and walked in._

_The sound of the door bell rang as he shut it over and it was peaceful in there, some people reading or working or chatting quietly. It was nice, Peter thought, looking at the coffee prices, and not too crazy expensive either._

_The young woman behind the counter had her back to him, starting up a coffee machine. However when she turned around, Peter had to do a double take._

_Willa. The girl with the purple hair._

_"Um... Hi? What can I get you?" she asked sweetly, wiping her hands over the apron around her waist._

_Peter had almost forgotten that of course, Willa didn't know him, but instead only knew Spider-Man._

_"I'll just have a coffee, thanks."_

_"One coffee coming right up!"_

_Peter didn't really know what to do. Did he say something? Make up an excuse and pretend that they knew each other in high school or passed each other on the subway? He had no idea._

_Gwen. Why did she suddenly pop up?_

_God, he fucking missed her with all his being._

_He was so, so lonely. Was it so bad to crave some company? This girl, she'd met Spider-Man before she'd met him. Yes, Peter and Spider-Man are the same person, but this was different. He had the chance to really keep someone, a potential friend, at arm's length. Willa- she knew Spider-Man as the superhero who helped her out._

_However she'd never met Peter before; the socially awkward slash loner science guy who wore glasses when he didn't need them and hated the thought of disappointing his aunt May._

_He didn't want to be lonely anymore._

* * *

"You worry too much," Peter says. "It's unnerving."

"I don't!" Willa argues.

"Yes, you do."

"You'll be happy to hear that I'm going to start taking self-defence classes soon. So you don't have to worry about me walking home at night. Because if anyones the worrier, it's you Parker."

"I can teach you self-defence!"

"No, thanks. Remember that time I almost beat you to a pulp?"

"Overstatement of the century much?" Peter says. "Besides, I don't like talking about that night."

"Why?"

"It was horrible. You nearly got-"

"Yeah okay, not that bit. But I found out someones little secret. That was pretty damn great for me."

_Not great for me though_, Peter thinks.

Willa almost reads his mind. "I know it's a risk, me knowing and all. But you know I respect your wishes, don't you? Not to get involved? Because I'm a part of your life Parker, and you're not getting rid of me so soon, okay?"

* * *

_She ran and she ran and she ran, faster and faster._

_Her breathing was harsh and she was crying, hard and hot, panting for air._

_She couldn't stop running, the footsteps still chasing her every move._

_She made a quick turn, running into an alley, when she realised; dead-end._

_What a stupid, stupid fucking mistake. She stopped, the rain heavy, heard trash cans fall over, heavy breathing and the sound of a man echoing her own pants._

_"Come here honey," he purred. "I don't bite, I promise."_

_She pressed her hands against the brick wall, her body refusing to turn around and clenched her eyes shut._

_That's when she heard a yelp from behind her, a sudden hiss and then it all went silent._

_She felt a hand on her shoulder and she reacted fast._

_Punch, hit, slap; punch, hit, slap._

_She attacked with all her might, determined not to give in, not to be weak._

_"Hey hey hey, Willa! Willa! Stop, Willa it's me! It's okay!"_

_She didn't look up at the man, only blinded by red and blue, and instead saw her chance to sprint out of the alley. Her pulse was pounding and she could feel the blood rush to her head, feeling woozy. When she was a little away, she leaned against the wall._

_Shit... Spider-Man. She just attacked Spider-Man. Without even recalling it was him at the time._

_She picked herself off of the wall and staggered back to the alley quietly. However when she reached the entry, she saw something she wasn't expecting._

_Spider-Man, without his mask._

_He had his left hand braced against the wall, mask in his right. Some of his face was hidden by the shadows but she could see his messy and mused hair and the shape of his jaw line; the curve of neck and the downward turn of his lips._

_"Peter?" she breathed, and his head whipped around, lips parting in surprise, eyes widening in panic._

_"Shit...- Willa, I-"_

_"You're- You're him?"_

_Peter paused. It was never supposed to happen like this. How could he be so careless? He should have gone after her, mask intact._

_No going back now._

_"I, er- Would you believe me if I said this was from a costume store?" he said, still staying in the shadows as she stepped forward into the alley. The rain was still pounding down on them unmercifully._

_"You know the answer to that, Parker," she answered and he smiled grimly._

_"Worth a shot."_

_"I'm sorry for beating you there."_

_"S'okay. I think I handled it well."_

_Willa held out her hand, gesturing for him to take it._

_"What?"_

_"You better put that mask back on, Parker. Aren't you gonna take me home?"_

* * *

"You know, I can wait outside for you if you want?" Peter offers. "We can go grab some pizza tonight."

"What, like last time?"

"Hey! Come on, I apologised for that..."

"Hmm, well I guess the city needed Spider-Man more than I needed Peter Parker right then, huh?"

Peter nudges her with the side of his body. He places his hands on top of her shoulders and stares down at her.

"What?" she asks.

"Whenever you need me, I will always, always be there. With or without the mask," he answers.

Willa smiles, dimples popping again. She reaches up to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, one hand on his neck, one on the back of his head. He reacts by holding her close, his hands pressed against her, face buried in her violet hair.

"Good," she whispers, "because I'd burn down the world for you, Peter Parker."

He just holds her tighter.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is my first piece on here that I've uploaded so please, feedback is welcome and appreciated. If you'd like any more spiderman stories or a continuation of this, please let me know! If you have any requests for other fandom ones and I'm familiar with the show/movie/characters/ship, then I'd be more than happy to upload more and more. Again thank you for reading and I hope your day is going well!**

**P.S. I'm from England, so I apologise if any American slang or terms are wrong- I watch many American show so I like to think I'm quite familiar but if not, let me know. **

**xox**


	2. Denial

**ii. Denial.**

_It's late and I'm feeling so tired_  
_ Having trouble sleeping._  
_ This constant compromise_  
_ Between thinking and breathing._

_ Could it be I'm suffering_  
_ Because I'll never give in?_  
_ Won't say that I'm falling in love._

**_Trouble Sleeping by Corrine Bailey Ray_**

* * *

How Peter Parker gets himself into these situations, he doesn't know. The criminal he is currently fighting isn't backing down and he is a strong, powerful man, towering above Peter by a few inches. His arms are nearly the size of Peter's head (he'll admit, he may be overstating _slightly_) andwhen Peter punches the man in the chest, it's like hitting a solid brick wall (okay, he's definitely understating here).

Peter had began with hand to hand combat, yet realised fast that that wasn't helping him. So, he has began to move quicker, as he also realised that speed is not this man's forte. Peter moves gracefully, wrists flying in front of him, trapping the man's hands together, yet the criminal snaps the artificial web with ease.

Peter knows he's being a lot sloppier tonight; he's exhausted, as the previous night he had spent rescuing most of the tenants at a burning apartment building, and it's taken its toll on him. Not only that, but his college professor has been busting his ass for turning up late to every seminar and sometimes completely missing all of one. His papers are another story completely.

He's been taking more and more photographs for the Daily Bugle, or more specifically, for the unimpressed J.J Jameson. His pay stresses him, as his pay check can vary depending on what Jameson thinks his photos are worth. Not only that, but now every time Peter places a camera strategically and swings towards it as it snaps a picture, he hears Willa's voice in his head say,

_"You know you're just taking some seriously well planned selfies, right? Then selling them? You never fail to amuse me, Parker." _

He had shook his head with an amused expression and told her to shut her cake hole, but still, he hears that voice every _single _time. It's rather distracting when he's trying to take a decent photograph without thinking of it as a 'selfie'.

Anyway, back to the problem at hand.

Peter is exhausted. This criminal is enormous. He really just wants to sleep.

* * *

Willa, on the other hand, is lying on her couch under the dim, glowing light of the lamp by her head. She is painting her nails a dark purple whilst glancing at the television screen in her small apartment.

_"Rule one about Fight Club," _Brad Pitt's character drawls on the screen.

_"Don't talk about Fight Club_," a voice says across the room and Willa jumps up with a scream, nail polish flying across her leggings and on to the floor.

She shoots her head up towards the corner of the room, to see an unmasked Peter Parker climbing through her window. Damn, she really thought she'd locked that. She was trying to get him to use the door.

Willa clutches her hand to her chest and sighs deeply.

"Look what you did!" she yells at him as he walks closer and peers at what she is referring to. The purple liquid is already drying on her leggings but the damage to her floor still looks fixable.

She sits up off the couch the same time Peter drops to the sofa, the material sagging under his weight, his body molding to fit. It's a damn comfortable couch. He puts his legs up where Willa had previously sat as she grabs a damp cloth from the kitchen with lightning speed and wipes up the nail polish with vigour.

"My bad Wills. Sorry," Peter mumbles, throwing an arm across his eyes. Willa doesn't reply verbally, but rather rolls her eyes and smiles, but he doesn't see due to him blocking his own vision.

As she walks back into the kitchen, she calls out to him. "Parker, you better not be bleeding. I swear if you're bleeding on my couch I'll make you clean it up before I help clean you up." She pauses for a moment, walking back over to him. "Wait. That sounded wrong. You know what I mean."

Peter merely lifts the arm from his eyes and grins. It makes him look about ten years old, Willa thinks. It's adorable.

"It doesn't feel like I'm bleeding. No cuts today, I don't think."

Willa raises an eyebrow regardless and sits on top of his legs. "Sit up and lemme see!"

Peter complies, groggily rolling his upper body from the arm of the couch, leaning an arm behind her head on the back of the couch. "I'm fine Wills. Just super tired. Honestly."

Willa ignores him and checks his hairline for any cuts or bruises. She notices a slight bruise against his temple and brushes against it lightly. Peter hisses lowly from the shock of her cold hand against him and the slight pressure on the bruise.

"_'I'm fine'_ my ass Parker," she says, smiling as he tries to push her hand away and stop her from fussing over him. "I'll get you an ice pack. Do you want some of your clothes to change into? I washed them with fabric softener and _everything,_" Willa adds with a grin, pushing on his legs to stand herself up. Peter just laughs quietly and lies back down.

"Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice," he replies, as she throws her phone at him. If he was Peter Parker before the spider bite, it would have smacked him in the nose. He looks at her questionably.

"Call your Aunt May. Tell her you're here. Make sure she's okay. You can be awfully forgetful sometimes," she says with a wink and walks out of the room, missing the fond look Peter gives her.

After Peter told her the story of the night his uncle died, and how an argument had started because he had forgotten about picking up May, she always reminds him to call May after swinging around the city. As she's right; when he's tired, he's awfully forgetful and he knows it. He appreciates her telling him to call May when he's like this every single time.

Willa, he thinks, truly is his best friend. She's so calming and he wonders if she realises how sweet the things she does and say are. She cares so much for him and May; they had become family to her in such a short space of time. When Willa first met his Aunt, May cried when she left. Not because she thought she was awful or anything like that. No, it was the smile, no the _grin_ on Peter's face that Willa had created. It was like she had turned on a light. It was something May hadn't seen properly for a long time.

Her boy was happy again, _finally_.

Peter of course, had to assure Aunt May that they were one hundred percent _platonic _and nothing more. He cared for her like a friend and they just didn't look at each other like that. Aunt May of course, secretly thinks differently, yet won't say that aloud.

After unlocking Willa's phone (her lock screen this week is a photograph she had forced him to take of her and a cat they had seen outside her grandma's place. The cat was wearing a tiny party hat, in case you were wondering. It wasn't questioned at the time), Peter taps on his Aunt's name and the phone begins to ring. After three-no four- seconds, May picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Aunt May. It's me," Peter says into the phone. "Just checking in. Making sure you're okay."

"Oh hello sweetheart. I'm fine. Where are you calling from?"

Peter rubs the side of his head, forgetting about the bruise momentarily and holds back another pain induced hiss. He can't believe he hadn't felt this before. The adrenaline must have been real high.

At that moment, Willa walks back into the room with an ice pack in one hand and a pair of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt in the other. She places the clothes on his lap and hands him the ice pack with a smile. She gestures he give her the phone. He does.

"Hi May!" Willa says happily. "He's with me, don't worry. Uh huh. Yep. I'll make sure he eats something, yeah. Oh really...? Was it busy...? Well, that's good then. Don't push yourself with the shifts though... Uh huh. Yeah. Okay. I'll pass you back over. Sleep well, May." Willa hands him back the phone. Peter is not surprised in the slightest. An exchange like this is a regular occurrence.

"Peter sweetheart, I won't be home tomorrow as I'm going to lunch with some friends then I'm on the late shift. I've put left overs in the fridge in case you get hungry," May explains as soon as Peter puts the phone to his ear.

"Okay, don't worry. I have a class, then I'll be with Willa. What time should I come meet you?"

"I finish at 1AM. But really Peter, if you're out with Willa I'll be fine-,"

"-Please don't Aunt May. I'll be there at 1, okay?" he interrupts. "In fact, I'll be there at 12:55." He hears May sigh but knows she won't argue. The streets are way too dangerous for him to let her walk alone. He made that mistake once already.

"Okay sweetheart. Are you coming home tonight?" Peter glanced at the clock on the wall. _12:03AM. _

"I'll just crash here. Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Take care Peter. Sleep well," May says, her voice soft and full of love. "I love you." He smiles.

"I love you too Aunt May. Bye," he says and the call ends.

He only then realises that the ice pack is melting in his hand and he presses it against his temple and groans. Willa hears this, and pops her head around the door of the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

Peter shakes his head, sitting up. "Nothing. My head just hurts."

"What does the other guy-or girl- look like?" She has now moved to lean against the door frame.

"I barely got a scratch on him. He was huge. However I stunned him enough to trap him in a few webs and get him arrested," Peter explains, standing up with a grip on the ice pack and the fresh clothes in his hand. They smell like lavender.

_"Girl sure does love her purple," _Aunt May always says.

"Nice work, Spider-Man," she says with a proud grin. He grins cheekily back.

"Thanks smart-ass," he answers in a goofy voice, and goes to get changed in her bathroom. When Peter comes back into the room, Willa is lounging on the sofa again with a plastic container full of some amazing smelling pasta in it. He sits down next to her, pulling her legs over his lap as she passes him a fork.

As they eat the pasta together (which is chicken and bacon, by the way) and sip lemonade (the only beverage Willa had in her fridge unless they drank water all night), Peter tells her about his day, and briefly explains his night. He doesn't want her to worry. Willa in fact, does the exact same; however, she is much more interested in what he's been up to the past few hours and it is blatantly obvious how much he is shortening the story down.

As it gets late into the night (or morning, if you wanna be specific), their conversation gets sleepy and quiet, as they discuss things closer to their hearts; science and art. Willa tells Peter about this gallery opening she's excited about and a new artist she has discovered, how she is dying to start using their work as inspiration for her own; that's what artists do.

Peter in turn adds comparisons to photography and how he has been taking a lot more photos recently. Willa rambles on about philosophy, another great interest of hers and a new novel she found at a second-hand book store about the Cosmological Argument.

Peter, in turn, tells her about the paper he's writing for his physics class, and even answers her questions about the science side of the Cosmological Argument, which leads them to talking about the universe and the stars and just general astronomy, Peter explaining with enthusiasm, simpling things down _slightly _when Willa gives him her '_say _what _now?_' look.

However, as they struggle to keep their eyes open, Willa pats Peter on the chest and pulls herself from the sofa, sliding her legs from his lap. She gathers various blankets and pillows from an airing cupboard and they pull out the sofa to turn it into a bed, moving the table as they do.

When the bed is hazardously yet comfortably cosy, Peter immediately throws himself into the midst of it, climbing under the covers and rubbing his eyes. Willa shuts off all the lights, locks the windows and checks the door, before walking over to the made up bed where her best friend is about to fall into slumber.

"Night night Parker," she whispers in the dark and plants an exaggerated kiss on top of his head. "Don't let the bed bugs bite," she adds, ruffling his hair as he laughs lightly, shoving his face into the pillow.

"Night Smart-Ass," he mumbles and he hears her chuckle, her feet padding against the carpet as she walks. "Love you!" Peter whisper-shouts, in an amused sort of way, so quick that it was like a well known reflex.

He hears her footsteps halt though, only the sound of her breathing through the darkness. He wonders if he'd gone too far, that maybe she'd find it strange. Willa is usually the one who jokingly adds a _'love ya_!' to the end of a phone conversation or when they say goodbye. He knows she means it in a best friend affectionate kind of way. But he's never said it to her; he's always felt- in a wrong sort of way- _guilty. _He shouldn't- because he didn't mean it like that, right?- but he did.

Finally, breaking him from his mini internal crisis, she answers, in true Willa style.

"I love you too, weirdo."

Because she does. Willa does love Peter. Peter loves Willa. They're best friends. They should love each other. They don't need to be romantically involved to _love _one another. Completely platonic. Platonic, affectionate kind of love.

They're not in love with one another.

They just love each other.

Well, that's what Willa whispers to herself as she sits on the edge of her bed, in the dark, in complete silence, as said best friend sleeps in the other room.

"I'm not in love with him. I just love him," she whispers, then shakes her head and slaps the side of it lightly for good measure. "Get a _grip _Willa," she adds, before slamming her head down on her pillow, and throws the comforter over her body

It's almost as though she's trying to convince herself.

In the living room, Peter Parker is having the exact same internal meltdown. It's different for him though; it's a different kind of guilt. He knows Gwen would kill him if she were here and knows he is only feeling bad over _potential _feelings for another woman (he's not saying he has them, just merely pondering the thought).

Then there's always the guilt of having _potential _feelings for Willa and completely ruining a friendship that is basically one of his lifelines.

_I'm not in love with her. I just love her, _he's saying over and over in his head until the words blur into nothing. He will _not _ruin their friendship. It's just easier to pretend.

Deny, deny, deny.

It's almost as though he's _definitely _trying to convince himself.

* * *

**A/N: **

**This is short I know, considering how long ago I actually uploaded this series of encounters between Peter and Willa. But I wrote this one evening when inspiration struck. Remember these are one shots/short stories between my OC and Peter and it is not a continuous. Just random scenes that I write when I feel inspired. So you can request me to write a scene for them or even give me a little idea/prompt for a scene.  
**

**I've been given a couple of prompts and requests for my OC and Peter already, one which I will be uploading very soon. Thank you for reading!  
**

**xox**


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